Sorry I'm not made of sugar and I'm not sweet enough for you
by loghorrean
Summary: Rated T for language and...who knows. Art School AU, in Marceline's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**25.03.16.**

 **Hello Readers!**

 **FIRST, YES THIS IS CONTINUING! It says In-Progress for a reason, you guys!**

 **SEcond, I have made some changes to this chapter, because I wasn't happy with the end bit. It won't affect the second chapter any, but I would advise reading this chapter over if you find yourself a little confused in further chapters. I'm going to try and update this weekly, and the chapters may be cut into smaller bits, but if I DO do that, it is only telling of my determination to do this weekly.**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews, I didn't expect to get any, to be honest. I love hearing feedback, and if you find I have anything to touch up on, please feel free to tell me so!**

 **Also, check me out on tumblr at the username hyuntokki for original and fan art of all kinds!**

 **Yours on the other side of a screen,  
Hyun토끼.**

* * *

CHAPTER 1

* * *

The water streams down on top of me, and I'm lost in a daze. I've tried to figure it out a hundred times but I can't. I don't know how this happened, and I don't know how to end it. I rub my face beneath the water until I'm forced to open my mouth to breathe. I hear myself sob.

 _Oh._

I didn't realise I'd been crying. Pain does that to you, I guess. You don't feel things the same anymore.

The sobs are becoming more frequent, and it's not just the water that's making it hard to breathe now.

This morning, I woke, washed up, put on a pair of thick denim overalls and a tank top, and packed my welding gear. I still had half my sculpture to piece together, so I figured I'd take all of Saturday (today) to do it. When I got to the studio hall, she was waiting at the door. Before, I would have been absolutely macked to see her, she's my best friend. Now, my body aches and my chest feels like it's decompressing. It's a real trip from where I was, and let me tell you, it's not the kind of trip you get to pick yourself up from.

"Marce -"

I walked straight past her, not even giving her a second glance. I was afraid if I looked her in the eyes I'd say something stupid, or even worse, show her something stupid, because that's what this is. Just plain stupid.

"Marceline!"

She ran to catch up to me and I still wouldn't look at her. She grabbed my arm, and even without thinking about it, I stopped. She was _touching_ me.

"I _demand_ to know why you're avoiding me -" Even as much as it hurt to avoid her, I couldn't help but want to smile. Typical Princess, "-did I do something? What did I do?"

I could hear it in her voice, how tired she was. She probably didn't sleep very much. Her showcase was in a few hours, of course she didn't sleep. In the three years I'd known her, not once did she sleep before a showcase. Nerves and all that. And I was contributing to it, because I was her friend, and I was avoiding her, without telling her why. Some kind of shit _friend_ I am.

"What is WRONG?" When I didn't answer, she gripped me tighter, and shook my arm. It felt nice to be around her again, but this wasn't good for my self control, so I pried her off and continued walking.

"I have to finish my sculpture."

She stayed standing there, and for a while I thought she'd stop chasing me, but I could hear her steps behind me. I groaned inwardly. Why was she so stubborn?

 _Come on Princess, leave me alone._

I got to my sculpture and started to get my welding gear on. Her steps were getting heavier. She was angry. I turned to see her fast pacing towards a piece of metal I'd thrown to the ground the other day, frustrated because it had cut me.

"Princes-" I tried to tell her to be careful, but she wasn't listening.

"DON'T call me that! You don't get to call me that anymore, not if you keep refusing to talk to me! If you're not going to tell me what's wrong I'm going to follow you around until you..!"

The closer she got, the more I was afraid she'd get hurt. I strode over to her before she could trip on the metal piece, and pulled her away by the wrist. Suddenly, my fear turned tight and conflicted.

"Bonnibel, you could've gotten hurt! How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're going! Am I more important to you than your own body? THINK a little!" I looked over her to make sure she was okay, even though I knew she was, I had to check. I'd scared her, that was for sure. I hadn't ever yelled at her before, not for anything... because I'd always been around to make sure she didn't get into scrapes she couldn't heal.

She stayed silent, her arm limp in my hand. Why was she so still? Worried, I looked from over her body into her eyes. My heart dropped. I could see the way she was looking at me change, from frightened and shocked, to one that was searching. Her stillness infected me and I was stuck where I was, stuck showing her everything I had hidden from her. Then it clicked, and she saw what I had been so desperate to keep from her. She saw the pain I'd been suppressing. She saw what the whole of my body was saying, had been saying for months.

 _I love you. I love you._

Her mouth opened to speak, and I let go of her wrist. She stopped. Instead of saying anything, as soon as my eyes dropped from hers, she reached her hand out to me.

 _Don't.._

This had been our peace offering from the moment we met. This was her way of saying 'talk to me'.

I didn't take it, I couldn't take it. Instead, I slowly shuffled a step away from her; my feet were not willing, but my mind reasoned that it was for her good. Her hand slowly dropped to her side, and with every inch it went down my heart clenched just a _little_ _tighter_ in my chest.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with a pastel, hipster princess. She wasn't even in the plan. The plan was to come to this school, stay isolated, complete the program, and find a place for myself in the world where I could belong but stay in isolation, at the same time. That was the plan.

I moved farther from her, concerning myself only with the pieces of metal scattered around the floor. One by one, I started picking them up. I cursed at myself for having put them there in the first place. Why hadn't I had more control over my temper.

 _Ah._

Because of her. Because avoiding her calls and walking in different paths to get to class every morning had been so taxing, so ironically suffocating, that I had let it all out on my sculpture. I wouldn't have had to come in today if I had not torn these pieces off the sculpture. But what else could I do? What could I _do?_

I placed the pieces on my work table and headed towards the lounge. I needed a shower. A cold one. I had sliced my palm open as I was picking up the pieces.

 _Goddamn, it_ _hurts_.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

* * *

I'm taking a shower in a bathroom of one of the many lounges this building has. The doors to the bathrooms are frosted glass so you can see the silhouettes of the people inside but very rarely are the lounges used so I am safe from wandering eyes.

I sit so that the water hits me harder. I can't seem to stop crying.

"Marcy?"

How did she find me? There are literally more than a dozen lounges in this building alone...did she go to all of them?

I close my eyes, and focus on the sound of the water drumming onto the top of my head. She keeps calling out to me, but I don't respond. I can't respond. I'm afraid, of how I feel, of how she might feel, how she probably does feel - disgusted, outraged, pity, uncomfortable - how did this happen?

When we'd first met, we hadn't gotten off on the right footing. If anyone had told me then that I would feel like this in the future, I would've scoffed at them for being so insolent, how dare anyone say that I would want anything to do with _Princess Bubblegum_ , as I'd used to call her.

 **THEN**

"Well...shit."

It was my first day in the most prestigious art program in the western hemisphere, and I'd already managed to get lost trying to find my classroom. Making my way around with my head buried in the program brochure had probably not been the best idea.

I looked around the hallway to find some clue as to which building I was in. On both sides of me, there were paintings, portraits, sketches, and works of mixed medium, of various sizes, all hung up in the same 3' by 5' oak frames. I found myself getting distracted by a few of the drawings and after finding a pattern in them, realised they'd been drawn by the same person. There wasn't a signature on any of them, but they all had the same recognisable strokes, and bubbles in them, somewhere, and though the drawings had different themes, the bubbles didn't seem out of place.

"Admiring my handiwork?" Startled by the proximity of the voice, I turned to find a girl clad in pastels; pale pink sneakers and tennis skirt, pale yellow t-shirt covered by a pale blue bombers jacket and a pale purple visor - even the gum she was blowing a bubble with was a pastel pink - standing right beside me. The only things that weren't pastel were the translucent frames on her glasses. I looked from the drawings to her. There was no way that this hipster chick was the artist of these drawings.

The drawings depicted fantastical warriors and unicorns and oddly enough, although the drawings were coloured in light, almost faint, colours, you could feel an intensity coming from them, as if they were stories you'd been through. One even had a vampire in it that I could see myself being - long flowing dark hair, carrying an axe. No way she drew this.

"This is _your_ work?" I pointed to the drawings, not even trying to hide the disbelief I could feel forming on my face.

My skepticism clearly annoyed her; she crossed her arms, tilted her head to the side, looking as though she were trying to size up what I said, all the while chewing obnoxiously on her gum. "What do you mean is this mine? Is it because I _look_ a certain way? I can look cute and have talent, you know." She cocked her head back as if she'd just proven a point.

I shook my head, laughed, and started walking away. I had no time for Princess Bubblegum over there.

"If you're looking for Professor Petrikov's class, it's this way."

I turned right back around. How did she -

"Come on, first year." She smirked at me, turned, and headed towards the glass doors at the end of the hallway. I rolled my eyes and followed her. She was going to be a pain, I could tell.

 **NOW**

She's still a pain, but for different reasons now. She's been sitting outside the door of the bathroom the whole hour I've been in here. I'm going to turn into a prune if I keep this up, so I turn off the water and reach for the towel.

"Marcy?" Her voice is timid now, with none of the feist and cockiness I'd heard in it when we'd first met.

I don't answer. Not because I have nothing to say, and not because I can't, but because I don't want her to know I'd been crying. My nose is stuffed up and I know if I try to talk to her now, she'll hear it, just like she did the night... Well, just like then. She'd know.

I get dressed slowly, giving my nose some time to clear up, and when my eyes are no longer red and I can breathe through my nose again, I open the bathroom door.

She stands up from where she's been sitting, and lifts her chin up so her eyes are full and round and on mine.

"Why do you keep avoiding me?"

She knows why. I know she knows why.

I shove my hands inside my pockets to keep myself from reaching out to her. She is so close. So painfully close. "You have a showcase to be at, don't you?."

I can feel her anger, can almost feel her tremble from where I'm standing. She doesn't say or do anything for awhile, just sighs heavily. I close my eyes, to the sound of her exhale. She takes a few more breaths before I hear her walk away. When I've finally opened my eyes, she's gone.

I wanted her to stay. It didn't matter that I was making her angry, it didn't matter that it was killing me to be around her. I just wanted her to stay, where I could see her, hear her voice.

But what I want to do is different from what I let myself do. My feelings are my responsibility. I refuse to plague her life with how I feel. That's what _he_ had done. That's what monsters do. I won't be a monster. To stay in her life, I can't be a monster. To stay in her life, for now, I have to stay away.

* * *

 **Hello Readers!**

 **Just letting you know, I will not ALWAYS be using the flashback method, I just found it really fun to do for this bit.**

 **If you've left a review, I want to say thank you again! It's really motivating knowing someone is actually enjoying what I've written!**

 **Remember to check me out on tumblr at hyuntokki ~**

 **Yours after a long night,**  
 **HYUN토끼.**


	3. Chapter 2point5

Since that day, my resolve slips a little, every day. I search for her in the corner of my eyes, look for her wherever I go; I want to be close to her, but only close enough to see. I know she sees me, but out of whatever pity, whatever courtesy, she doesn't let on that she does.

I'm glad that she doesn't turn to look at me, when I know she knows I'm there. If she did, I don't know how much longer I can just stand by her. I'm not a masochist. I know how these stories play out. I wasn't surprised at myself when I found out I liked her. I've never really liked anyone, and it didn't matter to me that I hadn't ever liked anyone. _This_ is new, _this_ is... is _not_ what's meant to happen. It doesn't matter if this turns out to be the love I won't forget for the rest of my life, it doesn't matter that it feels like I'm backed into a corner with a timed explosive in it. I can't forget that she's not the plan.

It starts raining outside as I get on the bus. I feel a little better when the bus starts driving away from school. I just need some time to breathe. Some time away from the misery that has become my life. Just for a little while, I'm going to escape, on this bus. I open the window just enough so that the rain falls on my face, and not on the people around me.

Just for a little while... let me be in love.

* * *

 **Hello Readers!**

 **I'm so so sorry that my update is more than overdue T_T I've been in a rut lately, and...well...y'all know how that goes.**

 **Anyway! I will try and be more diligent, I'm sorry for the lack of updates! Just to show how sorry I am, I've been working on the next few chapters so that I can post another update this week!**

 **Yours apologetically,**  
 **HYUN**


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

* * *

I must've been on the bus for hours - the next thing I know, the bus driver is trying to get my attention. I take out my earphones and

"-END OF THE LINE LADY."

I wave flippantly to the bus driver, and exit out the rear door. I look around as soon as I get off, because to be honest, I haven't got a clue where I am, until I see a street sign. Whoa. I'm on the other side of town. I must've gotten on an express.

It's still raining, so I go inside the bus shelter and sit down. It's close to midnight so the streets are almost empty save a few cars here and there; once in a while a person walks past me. I close my eyes and listen to the rain hitting the roof of the bus shelter. It's peaceful.

My phone rings. It's my hall mate, Ravi. I answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Where are you." She sounds pissed.

"I'm at Singer and Depthford." I lean my head back on the glass wall, stretching out my legs in front of me. Might as well get comfortable, I sense a scolding coming on.

"Get here. Now."

I open my eyes. I was mistaken. She's not pissed. She's panicked. "What's wrong."

"She's locked herself in."

I close my eyes and lean back again, but my legs aren't so comfortable stretched out anymore. "She'll come out when she's ready."

"NO. It's _different_ this time. I can't hear the usual noise, _Get here. QUICK."_ She hangs up.

I can feel the anxiety flushing through my body as the dial tone shrieks in my ear. I stay sitting, half petrified, half defiant.

 _She's just doing this to get to me. She's fine. She's fine. She's fine...Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

I rush out of the bus shelter, and run through the rain, onto the road. It's a friday, there should be a taxi here somewhere, trying to pick up drunken customers off the streets. I'm soaking wet by the time I get to one, but I don't care. I don't have the time to care.

"To Brackston Hall please."

 _Bonnibel, what are you doing..._

The taxi driver nods hesitantly, then starts driving. I must look crazed. I am crazed. If anything were to happen, if she were to be hurt... I can't think of that right now. I have to focus. Where did I put her studio keys? I pat my body down, and find it in the left breast pocket of my jacket.

She had given me a copy after two weeks of me insisting on it. The key had just been a precaution, knowing that Bonnie liked to spend hours upon hours in her workshop, I thought it safer if someone else had a key to the place. By that time, I had seen Bonnie get into more than enough accidents to know she needed to be looked after. I hadn't realised it the first time I met her, but as we started to get to know each other better, I soon noticed the scars on her arms and legs, from moving easels, cutting frames, building scultpures, dropping mugs, and that was just the _beginning_ of the list. At first I had thought it was because she was small that she got hurt easily (at five foot two, she weighed a little over 100lbs). I was mistaken. She was just clumsy.

Even in the midst of my anxiety I smiled slightly at the memory of watching her stumble on her own two feet. Bonnie was agile when she needed to be, but most of the time, her head was caught in a daze, most likely conjuring up the next work of art. She was always creating.

My grip on the seatbelt tightens. What had happened? In the span of a week, what could have happened? In my absence, _what had happened?_ I'm beside myself now, she's all I can think of. She's the only thing I won't lose. That's why I had stayed away, so that I could keep her in my life. I _needed_ her. She was the one person I didn't have to hide in front of. She saw my darker moments and still she stood by me. It was crazy how close we'd become in three years, but it feels just as natural as the breeze on your face on a sprightly spring day, even now, even with how I feel about her, she's still the easiest person to be around. I shouldn't have left her alone. This is insane. This is _insane._

"-Miss? We're here."

I look up at the concerned driver, and then out the window. Fumbling with my wallet, I thank the driver, give him his money and mumble for him to keep the change. My hands are shaking.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello Readers!**

 **THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! GOSH YOU GUYS, you do know how to make a person swoon! *^u^* For those of you telling me to write longer updates: HAHA YOU WISH! But I'm glad you guys are enjoying reading this, it's making it all the more fun to write! With the plot as it is, I'm not sure whether I want to take it further or I want to cut it clean in two-three more chapters. Let me know what you think!**

 **! A quick warning for this chapter - it contains mention of blood and the way I wrote might cause anxiety ( I know because I was feeling quite anxious as I was writing it ), so if you are sensitive in either department, please make sure you are in good condition when reading this!**

 **This is the last update for this week, the next one will be up on Wednesday.**

 **Yours after two hours of sleep,**  
 **HYUN**

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CHAPTER 4

* * *

It's cold. Except it's not cold. I know it's not cold because I'm not shivering, even though I'm drenched. But it's cold, and I feel it to the bone. Ravi's waiting outside the door, pacing. She stops when she sees me, stays standing where she is.

It takes me a while before I can find my voice. "...How long?"

She shakes her head. "Last anyone's seen her was during lunchtime."

My hands are still shaking. I look from her to the door, and my mind starts to race from one scenario to another. I keep imagining the worst.

"Marce?" Ravi puts a hand on my shoulder, and I shudder at her touch. She grips me tighter, and I pat her hand to reassure her that I'm fine. I smile weakly at her, and she scowls back.

I fit the key into the keyhole and turn it slowly, until I can feel the lock come undone. It all feels so surreal, like everything is at a standstill and I'm the only one moving, and it doesn't even feel like I'm moving. There's a hollowness in the air that surrounds me, envelopes me, aggravates me. Every nerve in my body is sensitive to it. I open the door.

I can't see her. The panic I've been suppressing starts to rise and I'm clenching my fists so hard the joints in my fingers are starting to hurt.

 _Bo-_ "-nnie?" I call out to her in barely a whisper. I don't dare be louder. If she can't hear me, she can't answer because she can't hear me, not because something has happened to her. If I call out to her, loud enough that she can hear, and she doesn't answer, if she can't answer - what if she _is unable to answer?_ The hollowing around me becomes worse, and I'm not here, anymore...but I am, and on the floor I can see tarp torn to pieces, scattered all over, broken frames in their midst. I hear a crunch beneath my feet. Broken glass. It's cold. The stitches on my palm tear, and my fingernails dig into the cut. I can feel the blood seeping through my fingers, dripping onto the floor, but I don't feel pain. All I feel is cold. The air is frigid, and stiff, and _empty_ , and _it's so cold._

"Hey...do you hear snoring?"

 _Wha-_

Then I hear it. A slight whistling, then a soft exhale of air. I quicken my pace, and walk past the bookshelf to where the couch is. She's sleeping. I can see her, curled up, using one of my flannels to cover herself.

 _"O-oh my god..."_ My knees give way, and I fall to the ground, my chest heaving violently as I start to cry.

What if something _had_ happened to her, and I hadn't been there? Could I have lived with myself knowing I hadn't been around her all because of butterflies? I clutch at my chest, belting out my sobs, not caring that I've stained my t-shirt with blood. I _love_ her, and yet, I had failed to realise that my absence could have consequences I couldn't deal with, consequences that could result in causing her harm. Whatever pain I felt by being around the unobtainable subject of my desire, compared to the pain I felt with just the suggestion of her coming to harm, was inconsequential. Everything I had done, everything I had _thought to do_ , _EVERYTHING_ had been stupid, so caught up in myself, and so selfish, _so, fucking, selfish_.

My wailing wakes Bonnie. I know because she's at my side now, asking me what's wrong, pulling me into her arms, stroking my hair. My eyes are shut tight, purging myself of the tears I'd held back since the taxi ride. _Shhh.,_ she says, _hush, hush._

I won't leave again. I'll be good. I won't leave. _I won't lose her_.


	6. Chapter 5

**Hello Readers!**

 **Okay, I know I said that I would update on Wednesday, but you guys are killing me with the begging. Hopefully this will hold you off until the next; since I've moved Wednesday's to today, I'm going to have to move the next update to Friday, since I haven't written it yet ^_^;; It takes a while for me to detach myself from other projects, so please bear with me!**

 **I know I say this everytime, but thank you thank you THANK YOU GUYS for all the reviews! Y'all are so good at giving me the fuzzies .**

 **This rabbit's going to go sleep now so, until the next,** **I remain,**

 **HYUN.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5**

* * *

It's a long while before I stop crying. Bonnie hasn't let go of me since she's woken up, and Ravi just sits nearby, watching. Each time I tried to stop crying, I kept seeing the images of what-ifs in my head and I started again. Bonnie kept stroking my hair, patting me on the back, rocking me back and forth, and I clung how I'd wanted to for months. I clung, and it felt so... raw, almost unfamiliar.

Finally, I stop crying, gently prying myself away from Bonnie to look at her. Ravi sighs, and waves goodbye as she leaves. She's going to have a talking to with me later, I know it, but for now, I'm just glad Bonnie's safe.

"Are you going to tell me why you were crying?"

I shake my head, not taking my eyes off her. Bonnie sighs and wipes away the remaining tears from my face. I hold her by the wrist and put her hand down, by her side. It's so easy to read her; as I move her hand away from my face, her lips tremble slightly. I smile to reassure her. For a moment, she stays as she is, searching for more than reassurance from me, then, as if she's gotten what she can, she smiles back tightly, and gets up.

"I have to continue working, I was just taking a break." With her back to me, she asks "...Will you...tomorrow..." _Will I be the same tomorrow,_ she wants to ask, _or will I return to how I was._

"I'm okay now." The pause in her movement tells me that she's relieved. She goes to the easel closest to us, and sits on the stool in front of it, picking up a clean brush.

I move from the ground to the couch she was sleeping on, and make myself comfortable, when I feel a pang in my left hand. I forgot I'd cut open the wound again. There's probably blood spots on my shirt, but I'm wearing burgundy, so it probably doesn't show much. I clench my fist so that the pain is a little more durable. I don't want to leave just yet. I watch her work, watch her mix various colours on her palette, adding more and more until she's satisfied, watch as her hair gets dissheveled, watch the frown on her face disappear then reappear as she continues to create and remake the world she paints.

Hours pass, and I watch as she repeats her movements, adding pauses and changes in between them. It's soothing, somehow, watching her. I think maybe the distance I put in between us is the reason for that, but that's all over now. What a nightmare tonight has been...it feels like so long ago, as though it's been months since I was racing to see her, distraught, out of my mind, but not even a day has passed. Still, I feel displaced, somehow, but I've learned that whatever I feel, whatever I may go through because of how I feel, I can't stay away from her, because what I'll feel _then_ , is _incomparable_. Tonight was a testament to that.

I just have to be careful not to affect her with how I feel. Bonnie getting hurt is one thing, but getting hurt because of me is -

 _-but you **have** been hurting her..._

That's right. I _have_ been hurting her, because I was blinded by how _I_ felt, by what _I_ wanted.

I don't realise that Bonnie has left the easel and is standing right in front of me until she grabs my face and turns it up towards her.

"-Earth to Marceline?" She leans down and speaks right into my ear, "I repeat, can you hear me," and when she does, I jerk my head away. She flinches, and her hands move from my face as if they'd been shocked.

"Are you hungry? I'll get you something to eat." I move to get up, and she steps away from me so as to make room. Her hands are now clasped in front of her, fidgeting. There is still some uncertainty left on her face, almost fearful.

 _I did this to her_.

But I can't _not_. Being around her, being close to her, it still drives me insane. My hands twitch, and in my mind, they've reached for her in a thousand different ways, all ways to drag her in, _to feel her_ , to - and I've stopped myself a thousand different times, knowing this isn't right, that my feelings are mine to deal with, and because I know what it's like to have someone else's feelings dumped on you, because they thought it was their right, that somehow, they were entitled to how they felt about you, and it was your job to know. I know how suffocating it is.

I don't want to lose Bonnie, but moreso, I don't want Bonnie to feel what I felt, I don't want to make Bonnie feel like she can't be what she wants to be with me. I don't want to suffocate her. I don't want to lose her. I can't. I refuse to. _I won't_.

I was stupid before, thinking that all I had to do was be away from her, and that somehow I could get rid of these feelings, manage on my own, but it hadn't worked, and I'd missed her more and more every day I was away from her. I'd gone to her dorm room door night after night, after I knew she'd fallen asleep, and just sat there, just to be near her.

 _How did it get to this?  
_

"I promise. I'll be right back." I reach my right hand out to her, just like we'd always done, as she had done a week ago.

She takes my hand in hers and smiles, and it's not pained, it's not reluctant, it's not held back. Bonnie smiles freely, and widely, and my throat wells up _that much more_ , because _I did this to her_.

I smile back at her as well as I can, before I let go and leave the room for the kitchen. There should be a first aid kit there too. I have to redress the wound before Bonnie sees. I've done enough damage, I'm not going to make her worry about me too.


	7. Chapter 5point5

I don't know how I knew, or even how it entered my mind, but she was everything. It just seemed natural, like there wasn't any other way to see her, like this feeling had been there since the drawings on the wall. There was no eureka moment where I clutched at my heart with wide eyes and questioned everything I thought I knew about myself. It was just, right.

Even now, as I wash the blood off my hands, as I am repeatedly telling myself I am no good for her, that I would ruin her, she is everything. It still feels right. She's the only thing I see when I close my eyes, and when I wake, I want to run to her.

After redressing the wound, I head to the kitchen. I had bought some fruit to stock the fridge for when Bonnie worked late nights, not that she knew; when she locked herself in her studio, she was unreachable, and eating was barely a necessity. Even so, I always kept the fridge stocked. Before my...absence, I would bring food to her studio and Bonnie would listlessly comply, picking up whatever I gave her with one hand, working on whatever piece with the other.

When I realised how I felt for her, though I kept my distance, I restocked the fridge every couple of days, just in case. It wasn't my realisation that stayed me from telling her how I felt. It was my past, my future, me. She would be burdened by me, I would drag her down with me, and this was all on the slim chance she felt the same way for me. And if I told her and she turned me down, if she didn't feel the same way, as I know she doesn't, how could I bear seeing her after that? How could I face her? What if she felt betrayed? Her closest friend having ulterior motives...


	8. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

* * *

I walk back to the studio, a bowl of grapes in one hand and a sandwich in the other.

"You have _got_ to be KIDDING." The way Ravi looks at me is how I feel towards myself, but I've made my decision. She keeps staring. "You said before that you were going to stop being around her. You made me keep tabs on her so you wouldn't. You-" her face is starting to get red "-YOU SAID - I DON'T GET IT." She's glaring now, her hand clamped tightly around a beer bottle.

I look down at my own hands, feeling stupid.

She sighs, her eyes close, and she sets the beer down. "I'm not listening to your shit anymore. You're a lunatic. Why do I hang out with you." She shakes her head, rhythmically, like she's nodding along to a song. "I don't get it. I don't get it. This is why I don't like people. I should never have helped you move boxes. I should have never complimented your work. Why did I do that."

I laugh. This is the side of Ravi that always calms me down, ironically. For the two years that I've known her, her unfailing cynicism has never failed to put me in a better mood.

"STOP. LAUGHING."

And for two years, putting me in a better mood has never failed to put her in a worse one.

I smile at red-faced, fist-clenched Ravi, until she sighs again, picks up her beer and chugs the rest. "Sorry."

She wipes her mouth, and I see pity in her eyes. I think she sees that I see it, because she shakes her head a couple times, and it's not there anymore. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to be her friend."

Ravi rolls her eyes. "You already are."

"I mean, I'm going to _just_ be her friend."

She cocks her head to the side, seeming confused. "You're crazy in love with her."

I close my eyes at the word love, and open them again when the pain goes away. "What I feel doesn't really compare to what I would feel if I lose her."

"Oh my god. You're a cheeseball now. The bubblegum princess has turned you into a cheeseball. I can't believe this. This is insane. WHERE DID MARCELINE THE VAMPIRE QUEEN GO. WHERE IS MY FRIEND? WHO ARE YOU?" Ravi clutches at her hair, and pity is now written all over her face, but the sight of her wild eyes and even wilder hair makes me want to laugh even harder. Her eyes narrow at me - "do NOT laugh."

We drink for a little while longer before Ravi calls it a night.

"Whatever you do, leave me out of it, Abadeer."

I smile fondly at her and nod. She leaves, and I head to bed.

She'd seen what this whole ordeal had done to me, what it had cost me. I'd spent days drinking in her room, not saying a word, and she'd just sat there, drinking with me. She'd sobered me up in time for classes, and told me how useless I was for confusing the difference between a portraiture and a character study, when I was too absentminded to even remember my own name. For someone whose motto was the word "BOUNDARIES", Ravi had been more than a friend. I'm lucky to have her, scowls and all.

The next day, I wake up, and for the first time in weeks, for some reason, breathing isn't a chore. I get ready for class, choosing to wear a pair of cigarette pants and a burgundy tshirt tucked in at the waist. I grab my bag and I'm out the door in half an hour. I hear Bonnie as I open the door, and for a moment I pause, wondering what she's doing here, half panicking because I'm supposed to be avoiding her - but then she smiles at me, and I remember the other night. I smile back, careful to hide my fidgety hands. The pressures I feel on my chest whenever I see her haven't gone away, and I still ache when I think of what I'll have to do to stay at her side, but she's in front of me, smiling. That should be enough. That is enough.

"Ready to go?" She holds out her hand.

I look from her hand to her, and give her a little smile. For a second, I take her small pale hand in mine, because that's the longest I dare to hold her, and let go. "Come on. You'll be late."

I can see her pause a moment, and she stays back a step until -it seems- she's made up her mind. She strides to my side and sticks right next to me. She starts talking about how it's been so boring walking to class by herself, and how Professor Petrikov had given her a new mould to work with for the next showcase. She talks about how one of her classmates had been commissioned for a piece she couldn't stop herself from laughing at every time she saw it. She tells me about the latest gossip she's been hearing. In between every bit of news, she glimpses at me from the corner of her eye, to see if I'm listening, and looks away when she sees I haven't stopped nodding to her words, laughing at how she's chosen to express herself, all the while watching for things she could trip on, just like before. Those glimpses hadn't been there before, though. She hadn't been so eager to see that I was listening, not before everything I'd done. Every time she looks at me, I feel just as I did before; the guilt swarms in and I'm holding myself back even tighter every step I take.

I was ready for this. I knew that seeing what I'd done to her would be painful. I just hadn't realised the execution is more agonising than the prognosis.

We continue walking, and just before we reach her classroom, she stops. I turn back to look at her.

"Bonnie? What's up?"

She clutches at her books, holding them tightly at her side. I see determination in her eyes, and it's scaring me.

"Marcy..."

All of a sudden the air around me is too much, and my mouth is becoming dry. What if she's realised how I feel, or even worse, what if my irregular activity has made her rethink our friendship? Before she can say another word, I burst out.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm really sorry Bonnie. I just.." For a brief second it passes in my mind that I could tell her and be done with. I could tell her the truth and the pressures on my chest, from having to keep how I feel from her, from having to lie to her, would be gone.

Bonnie shakes her head. The second passes.

"Marcie, I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to have lunch with me." Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is twitching into a smile. I can see that she wants to laugh, but is trying hard not to so that she doesn't hurt my feelings.

I bring my hand up to my eyes to cover them, feeling my face grow warm. I start laughing at myself, and soon, I hear Bonnie laughing. I take my hand down, and see her clutching her sides, her head tilted and her eyes on me. When was the last time I'd seen her laughing? I feel my stomach flutter and as she laughs, I'm shining from the inside out, and her laugh chimes in my ears. I pull at her arm, as the school bell rings.

"Go to class. I'll see you at the Quad for lunch."

She nods, beaming, and waves on her way in.

I stay standing, wanting to feel the flutter for a little longer. Just then, my phone rings. It's an unlisted number, and usually when it's unlisted, it's from one of my studio mates, so I pick up.

"Hello?"

No one answers.

"Hellooo? I'll be in in a minute, so if it's Bobby, can you stop worrying? It's supposed to cra-"

"Marceline Abadeer?"

I freeze. I know this voice. It's not Bobby.

"Is this Marceline Abadeer?"

I can feel my hands grow colder and any warmth I had felt before, is gone now.

The voice on the other line sighs, and I hear a click.

I'm shaking. My legs give way and I stay sat in the middle of the hallway while everyone else walks past me, around me. I don't care. HE's found me.


	9. Chapter 6point5

**Chapter 6.5**

* * *

I sit and I wait. What am I waiting for? I don't know... I don't know, I don't know. I hear my name being called but I can't fill in the blanks. I don't know what they're saying. Who's calling me? Why? Why is everyone looking for me? Why? My hands start shaking so I wrap them around my shoulders. It doesn't help. I can feel my body shaking underneath my hands. I'm now fully aware, that I'm not still. I need to get up. I have to find out what he knows. I have to tell - how can I? where do I start?

"MARCELINE."

Beside me I see a pair of sneakers. The owner must've called me. I look up. A man in his forties, smartly dressed in a light blue dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up, with a tan messenger bag slung on his left shoulder.

"Hi Bobby."

He raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing in the middle of the hallway?"

I shake my head. "Nothing."

He rubs his eyes, letting out a big sigh that said _why do I bother_. "Please get up. You will be late to my class."

I salute him. "Yes Sir." I spring up, making a show of brushing myself off, and follow him to the classroom. When we get there, he grunts me to my seat, and stands in the front of the class, putting down his bag, and stares the class down.

"Who has NOT done their homework."

Even before he stops talking, half the class slowly raises their hands, as if by routine. For once, I do not. Spending time away from Bonnie made me do things I normally didn't even think to do. Being girl-crazy was bad for the grades, I realised early on.

Bobby continues the lecture from the previous class, and I find that I'm calm. Eerily calm. Just a half hour ago, I had been shaking, I had been terrified. I close my eyes and focus only on Bobby. I just need to stay calm. I can think about what to do later, when I'm sure I won't react emotionally. Focusing on Bobby is calming me.

 _THUAK._

My ears ring as the spine of Bobby's book hitting the top of my head spreads the pain. I involuntarily let out a little laugh. Class resumes.

* * *

 **Hello Readers!**

 **I know I know I'm the shittest for the long hiatus, I swear I have good reasons, but since this isn't a pity party, I won't share them. I'm back with another short update, since you have been waiting for a cliffhanger, and I want to ease some of the tension before I get into the nitty gritty dramfest I have ready for you. Thanks always for waiting, I appreciate every single one of you, thank you so much for continuing to read even when I was on my hiatus.**

 **Love always, your bunny writer, HYUN.**


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